


out of hand

by notionally, susurruses (subsequence)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Bottom Im Jaebum | JB, Camboy Jaebum, Circle Jerk, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/pseuds/notionally, https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/susurruses
Summary: Yugyeom tries to pretend it never happened. He likes to believe he lives in a reality where he didn’t accidentally send his group mates a video of their leader choking himself on a dildo for strangers’ money. Well, technically, he sent it to Bambam — but Bambam then sent it to everyone else, so it’s the same thing. Either way, Yugyeom doesn’t want it.Thankfully, no one dares to bring it up when Jaebum’s around, and Jaebum’salwaysaround.Until, one day, he’s not.





	out of hand

**Author's Note:**

> written for tell me good boy fest prompt #97: idol au (canon verse ig) jb is a secret camboy and yugyeom discovers his accounts and shares it with the rest of got7 and they all watch(wink wink) one of jbs lives together without jaeb knowing

**Bambam**  
hey everyone :)

**Yugyeom**  
BAM DON’T

**Bambam**  
so i have  
a thing

**Yugyeom**  
YOU CAN’T  
IT’S GROSS  
AND MAYBE ILLEGAL??  
BAM  
I’M TOO YOUNG T ODIE????

**Bambam**  
:)

**Jinyoung**  
Why are you so loud even over text  
And where is Jaebum hyung  
Why did you make a chat without him

**Bambam**  
well  
here’s the thing  
[link]  
:)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yugyeom tries to pretend it never happened. He likes to believe he lives in a reality where he didn’t accidentally send his group mates a video of their leader choking himself on a dildo for strangers’ money. Well, technically, he sent it to Bambam — but Bambam then sent it to everyone else, so it’s the same thing. Either way, Yugyeom doesn’t want it.

Thankfully, no one dares to bring it up when Jaebum’s around, and Jaebum’s _always_ around.

Until, one day, he’s not.

Not like, dead. If anyone’s going to die, it’s Yugyeom. For sending that video. But in his defense, he didn’t _know_ it was Jaebum when he sent it to Bambam. As far as he was concerned, it was just a particularly handsome camboy with an aversion to showing the top half of his face and a non-existent gag reflex. Bambam had been the one to figure it out and the one to send it to the rest of them — so the person who should die is Bambam, really.

And Jackson. For bringing it up again.

It’s the first time since the Worst Fuck-up of Yugyeom’s Life that the six of them are together, without Jaebum. Yugyeom had been hopeful that the topic wouldn’t come up, but now here Jackson is, barely halfway through a bottle of soju, loudly asking in front of god and everyone, “Did you guys see that Jaebum hyung — sorry, I mean _ParadiseKitten_ — put out a new video?”

Yugyeom groans and drops his head into his hands. Youngjae snorts. Mark says, “Yeah. It was hot.”

“Hyung!” Yugyeom yelps. “We shouldn’t even have looked at the first one — ”

Mark shrugs. “He puts it on the internet. If he didn’t want people to watch, then he wouldn’t upload them.”

“If anything,” Jackson adds, nodding eagerly, “it would be _rude_ of us not to watch — ParadiseKitten’s worked so hard.”

“Stop calling him that!” squeaks Yugyeom.

“It’s his name,” Jackson shoots back haughtily. “And a very good kitten he is too.”

Jinyoung presses two fingers to his temple. “I’m going to need you to stop talking about this now.”

“Oh, come on, Jinyoungie,” Jackson wheedles. “It’s family time. It’s a bonding experience.”

“There’s nothing family friendly about this,” Youngjae points out, which Yugyeom appreciates. He doesn’t sound like he objects to talking about it, though — which Yugyeom appreciates less.

“Maybe that’s the issue,” Jinyoung replies peevishly. “Do you know how long I’ve known Jaebum? He’s like my _brother._ I can’t watch him suck dick!”

Mark raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. “That’s not how you felt when we were trainees and you bitched about your wet dreams about him.”

Jackson shrieks with glee, happily pummeling Youngjae’s arm. “Jinyoungie’s just holding out because he’s even hornier for hyung than the rest of us!”

“I don’t know,” muses Youngjae. “I think Mark hyung is pretty horny for Jaebum hyung too.”

“Well, Yugyeom’s the one who found the video in the first place,” Bambam says. “So, he’s probably the horniest of all. The O.G. horny.”

This draws an indignant scoff from Jackson. “Excuse me,” he cries out. “I’d like to think I am the O.G. horny.”

“Why is this a competition?” Jinyoung asks. The question sounds like it’s directed more at a higher power than anyone in the room. “Why is this _happening?_ ”

“Because you’re horny for Jaebum hyung,” Bambam says matter-of-factly. “There’s no princely image in the trenches, hyung. Just accept it like the rest of us. ”

Yugyeom squawks. “I have not accepted any such thing!”

“Then why did you send it to me in the first place?” Bambam challenges.

“I didn’t know it was him!”

“Doesn’t that make it worse?” Youngjae offers. “I mean, you were horny for like, half his face.”

“That’s some powerful horny,” Mark adds.

Jinyoung groans, burying his face in his hands. “Horny doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.”

Everyone ignores him. Yugyeom scowls. “Look, anyone would have been horny — did you not _see_ the things he was doing? That dildo was _huge_!”

“It was,” agrees Jackson sagely.

Jinyoung purses his lips primly. “I haven’t seen it, actually.”

“Why are you trying to tear this family apart?” Jackson demands. “Is our Jaebum hyung’s porn not _good enough_ for you?”

“ParadiseKitten, you mean,” supplies Youngjae helpfully.

“Well, there’s an obvious solution here,” Bambam says in the cheerful tone he always uses when he’s about to be particularly chaotic.

Jinyoung doesn’t wait for him to finish his thought. “No,” he says, flatly.

But Bambam barrels on. “We should just watch it now.”

There’s silence for a moment. And then the room explodes.

Youngjae is howling with laughter. Jackson is screaming _yes, yes, yes_ at the top of his lungs. Jinyoung has slipped into satoori and, from what Yugyeom can tell, is wishing a fate worse than death on them and their collective pets and progeny for generations to come.

Mark’s thumbs halt in their movements, finally distracting him from whatever phone game he’s been focused on for the rest of the conversation. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Bambam shakes his head vigorously, watching over the wreckage with a proud grin. “And Jackson hyung just got a new TV,” he points out gleefully. “We can watch in on there!”

They _shouldn’t_ watch it on there, Yugyeom thinks. They shouldn’t watch it in the first place, least of all on a massive screen while they’re scattered across the couches and chairs like it’s a normal movie night. He doesn’t think this is what Jackson had in mind when he’d invited them over to hang out and “maybe test out his new TV”.

And yet, here they are. The setting is so familiar it might even feel casual — if not for the fact that Jackson is eagerly typing “ParadiseKitten” into the search bar at the top of a page filled with thumbnails of people getting reamed. Yugyeom tries to avert his gaze from the smorgasbord of overly-lubricated junk on the screen, but he can’t stop himself from looking when a flash of baby pink and a familiar smirk catch his eye.

Jackson clicks on it with a victorious crow. Yugyeom braces himself for death.

It starts out tame enough, just him licking his lips and smiling at the camera and wiggling his fingers in a cute wave. There’s a thick band of pink lace tied across his eyes, like there was in the first video, so all they can see is his lips. Full and pouty and red, like he’s been biting them.

Yugyeom didn’t think it was possible, but Jaebum hyung — sorry, _ParadiseKitten_ — is even racier on Jackson’s new flat screen.

“I don’t want to watch this,” whines Jinyoung.

“I don’t see you leaving, though,” Youngjae points out. And Jinyoung doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he shuts up, still staring decidedly at a patch of wall above the TV screen with his fists clenched in his lap.

“Does he just suck dick like last time?” Bambam wonders. “Or do you think he’ll — ”

Jinyoung makes a pained noise. “ _Don’t._ ”

“Yeah, Bam,” Jackson adds. “Don’t ruin the suspense. It’s a viewing experience.”

The conversation cuts off abruptly when Jaebum holds up a toy, showing it off to the camera with a coy wave. It’s bigger than the last one, Yugyeom notices, swallowing dryly. It’s pink, just like everything else he uses for his shows, and shaped normally enough if it weren’t for its intimidating girth and length. Yugyeom doesn’t think human dicks come in that size.

“Hey, look!” exclaims Bambam, elbowing Jinyoung in the ribs and pointing at the screen. “He’s a size queen, like you, hyung.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing your crush on him didn’t work out,” Mark says mildly. “I can’t see that conversation going well.”

“It could just be that his hands are kinda small, so the dildo looks bigger,” Youngjae says. He’s not wrong — Jaebum’s fingers do look a little small and chubby wrapped around the toy. Then again, Yugyeom gets the feeling that anyone’s fingers would look insignificant by comparison.

In any case, his fingers are not the point right now, a fact which Jackson reminds all of them of when he yells, “Stop talking about his hands, this next bit is really good!”

“How many times have you watched this?” Yugyeom cries out.

“You don’t have to watch something this hot that many times for it to imprint itself in your brain,” Jackson retorts. “Also like, a few. Don’t worry about it.”

Yugyeom’s about to say something snarky in return, when Jinyoung makes a noise like a strangled crow, and chokes out, “Oh my god.”

Jaebum is dragging the flat of his tongue up the shaft of the toy, slow and wet and close enough to the mic that they can hear the slick slip of his skin against the silicone. When he reaches the tip, he wraps his lips around just the head. Yugyeom can just imagine what his tongue is doing from the small, suckling noises he can make out.

Jinyoung clears his throat scratchily, uncrosses his legs and crosses them the other way. Youngjae casts him a sideways glance. “You look uncomfortable, hyung,” he says, slowly.

“If you flip your boner up into your waistband, it helps,” Jackson offers. “See, that’s what I’ve done with mine.” He gestures to his crotch.

“I do _not_ want to know,” Jinyoung says stiffly. “And of course, I’m uncomfortable — I’m watching my hyung suck a fake dick, how could I _not_ be uncomfortable?”

Bambam beams at him. “Would it help if it was a real dick?”

Mark snorts. “I think it would help if it was _his_ dick Jaebum was sucking.”

“No one is sucking anyone’s dick!” snaps Jinyoung.

“Which is a real shame,” Jackson adds, nodding at the screen. “Considering how good that one is at it.”

And he really is. What he’s doing on screen now is reminiscent of the first video that had landed them all in this mess. He’s taking the toy into his mouth, going deeper than Yugyeom thinks should be possible. Every time he pulls back, the silicone shines with more spit. It’s a good thing his eyes are covered — Yugyeom thinks he might come in his pants if Jaebum looked into the camera right now.

Jaebum picks up the pace, starting to fuck his mouth down onto the toy even harder, and there are thick, wet noises every time it reaches the back of his throat. He pauses at the tip for a moment and lets out a strangled moan, like he can’t stop himself, like choking himself on a cock feels so good that he can’t hold it back.

“Okay,” says Jinyoung. His voice is thin, like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. “This is fine. I’m fine.”

“I’m rock hard,” Jackson says. “Does anyone mind if I — take care of business?”

“Of course, we mind!” Jinyoung says shrilly. “Why the _fuck_ wouldn’t we mind?”

“Well, we _are_ all watching Jaebum hyung suck dick,” Bambam replies.

“Yeah,” Youngjae agrees. “Normal rules don’t really apply here, do they?”

Mark just shrugs and says, “Only if I can, too.” Jackson beams at him, and they shoot each other finger guns.

“Hands up, who’s in favor of jacking off to Jaebum hyung!” Jackson calls out eagerly, already throwing his hand in the air.

“Don’t enable him,” Jinyoung warns them.

Bambam stares Jinyoung in the eye as he raises his hand. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He shoves his other hand down his pants, unblinking.

“We haven’t finished the vote, yet,” Jinyoung snaps. “Don’t you fucking — ”

There’s a noise from the TV, and all eyes snap to the screen to watch Jaebum slap the toy against his pouted lips before dragging it across his cheek, leaving a smear of shining saliva across his skin. His lips are even redder now, fucked out and swollen. As they watch, he sets the toy off to the side, then lifts the fingers of his left hand to his mouth and sucks two of them in. Tiny mewls rise in the back of his throat as he fucks his mouth with his own fingers, spit dripping down over his knuckles and the back of his hand.

Yugyeom can see, out of the corner of his eye, that Jackson is, very slowly, rubbing the flat of his palm against the erection straining against the front of his jeans. On the other side of him, Mark’s doing the same, except that he’s slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yugyeom gulps. He kind of wants to do the same, but he can’t _possibly_. Can he?

He glances across to the other sofa, locks eyes with Bambam. Something unspoken flickers between them. Bambam still has one hand down his pants. He licks his lips, thicker and fuller than Jaebum’s, with excruciating slowness. Gives Yugyeom a little smirk, and a shrug.

Everyone is hushed, focused on themselves and Jaebum. Thankfully, the sounds he’s making drown out the rustle of clothing and the slightly labored breathing that fill the living room.

“I think this is fine,” Youngjae says calmly, as he undoes the button of his jeans. “As long as we never speak about it again.”

Yugyeom doesn’t think that Youngjae’s sage tone of voice automatically makes what he’s said true, but he’s happy enough — or maybe horny enough — to go along with it. They can always regret it later.

Jaebum pulls his fingers out of his mouth slowly, letting his lips drag against the skin until they pop free. The camera is close enough that they can only see his shoulders and chest, clad in an oversized button-down not too different from what he wears normally except for its baby pink color. He scoots back on the bed enough for the camera to show that he isn’t wearing anything on his lower half, at least not that they can see.

The shirt is big enough that it reaches almost halfway down his thick thighs, and Jaebum teases at the hem with his fingers. His hips sway back and forth a bit just enough that it’s playful. He’s too flirty — too fucking _cute_ — to be the leader they know. Or to be someone who’s just fucked his own mouth so eagerly with a dildo.

When he lifts the hem of his shirt, though, cute isn’t the word on Yugyeom’s mind. Sinful, maybe, or outright rude.

“Is that real?” wails Bambam. “Is that _real?_ ”

Because there’s a tiny hot pink heart tattoo on the curve of his hip. ‘Kitten’, it reads, in swirling cursive font. Tasteful, almost, except for the fact that it’s half-hidden by lacy pink panties and Jaebum is holding his shirt up with a teasing smirk — there’s nothing tasteful about the picture before them.

Jinyoung lets out a groan like he’s been punched, tips his head back onto the sofa, and angrily shoves a hand down his pants. “He knows,” he whines. “I’ve told him before — how I feel about small tattoos.”

Yugyeom’s hand freezes. “Do you think...he knows that we know?”

“No way,” Jackson says with unflappable certainty. It’s not clear if he’s reassuring Yugyeom, or himself. “He would’ve killed us all in our sleep. Besides, what kind of porn star doesn’t have at least one little tattoo?”

“It’s probably not even real,” Youngjae adds. “One wardrobe malfunction on stage, a hundred cameras pointed at him — too risky.”

Relief floods through Yugyeom. “You’re right. He probably doesn’t know.”

Mark hums contemplatively. “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be hot if he did?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jinyoung exhales, “Why would you _say_ that?” He sounds like he’s in pain.

“We were all thinking it,” Mark says. No one objects.

Until Jinyoung groans, “Just — shut up. Shut up and watch the fucking video.”

Yugyeom can’t shake Mark’s words from his mind, though. _Wouldn’t it be hot if he did?_

It echoes in Yugyeom’s mind as he watches Jaebum turn so his back is to the camera and then fall to his hands and knees. His back is arched, the shirt riding up and the panties just a slip of lace that do almost nothing to protect his dignity. The swell of his balls is clearly visible through the fabric even from behind, and they become even more obvious when Jaebum tugs the panties to the side.

“Jesus _fuck,_ ” someone mutters, and Yugyeom can’t even place who it is because there’s a roaring sound in his ears and his mind is empty and all he can focus on is the glass plug seated snugly between Jaebum’s cheeks.

Jaebum reaches back to toy with the heart-shaped base, tugging at it just enough that his rim stretches around it. It’s meant to be a tease, but it’s so obscene that Yugyeom has to take his hand off his dick for a moment. Just for — a breather. Or risk embarrassing himself in front of the others.

But Jaebum is relentless, toying with himself and his viewers. He keeps pulling the plug out just enough that the flared part of it spreads him wide before letting it go, his hole sucking it back in like it’s desperate to be filled. Imagining how that would feel on his own cock has Yugyeom holding back a whine.

Finally, Jaebum pulls the plug all the way out and drops it on a towel he’s laid out next to him. His rim is shining with lube and slightly pink. Yugyeom’s mouth waters at the sight and he swallows hard.

Jaebum looks back over his shoulder, a vision in pink between the blindfold and his shirt and panties, and lifts his fingers to his mouth again.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Jinyoung groans, as if Jaebum can hear him and will stop.

But, of course, he doesn’t. He stuffs two fingers into his mouth eagerly, sucking on them wetly before he laps at a third finger and licks it into his mouth. His lips spread wide over their combined girth, not so different from when he’d sucked the dildo.

Yugyeom’s never really noticed before just how pretty Jaebum’s lips are — the curve of his cupid’s bow, the sweet swell of his upper lip. They’re not too thick, and they look almost delicate even as he’s suckling filthily at his own fingers.

When he pulls his hand back, his fingers are dripping. It’s messy and dirty and feels like it should be gross, but all it does is make Yugyeom’s cock jump in his grip.

It only gets worse when Jaebum reaches back, arching so they can see everything when he shoves two fingers knuckle-deep inside of himself.

Yugyeom’s breath hitches. He wrenches his gaze away from the screen. Takes a shaky inhale, tries to calm his pounding heart. He doesn’t want this to be over yet.

But then he sees Bambam. His best friend. One hand around his dick, pumping it with exquisite slowness, the other hand fisted in his hair. Head thrown back, chest heaving. And it’s one thing to watch Jaebum on a screen — it feels like something completely different when Bambam’s eyes blink open slowly and meet Yugyeom’s.

Yugyeom wants to look away, he does — he should. But he can’t. He watches, mouth going dry, as Bambam continues to stroke himself, their eyes still locked. Watches as Bambam begins to pick up the pace. It’s almost imperceptible, at first, but then Yugyeom finds his breathing getting more laboured as he strokes his own dick, quicker and quicker, matching Bambam’s pace. He’s not even looking at the screen now, nor is he pretending to. But he can’t look away, not when Bambam’s looking at him like that, with raw desire in his eyes.

Finally, Bambam bites his lip and his eyes flutter shut and Yugyeom’s gaze snaps away. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, what they’re _all_ doing — but now he’s almost painfully aware of not just Bambam, but the rest of them around him. The slick sounds of hands on cocks and the rustle of clothing and the tiny, voiceless huffs of breath each of them can’t quite hold back.

Suddenly, watching Jaebum fuck himself seems like the less overwhelming option.

Yugyeom fixes his eyes on the screen, steadfastly ignoring the sounds around him and focusing on how Jaebum’s spreading himself wide on his fingers. He’s worked up to three, the stretch obvious in the way his thighs are shaking and every exhale is almost a moan. His cock is so hard it’s straining against the panties, a wet spot leaking through the fabric. Jaebum drives his fingers deeper, his cock jumping visibly in the lace at the same time that he lets out a broken noise that sounds an awful lot like a mewl.

“Oh god,” exhales Jinyoung. His free hand — the one not clasped desperately around his cock — reaches out, grabs onto the first thing it finds. Which is Mark’s hand. Yugyeom eyes his two hyungs. He sees the way Mark’s breathing gets a little more shallow, sees the way Jinyoung turns his hand over and interlaces their fingers. Sees the way Mark’s thumb caresses Jinyoung’s skin.

It’s all too intimate for something that wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

Which is an odd thing to say, because what Jaebum’s doing to himself on the screen is so much more than holding hands. Actually, Yugyeom is worried that Jaebum’s whole hand might end up inside his ass with the way he’s fingerfucking himself so eagerly, like he can’t get them deep enough, like he’s starving for more. Every thrust in is accompanied by a squelching noise, and lube from the plug and spit from his fingers are dripping down his taint and staining the panties.

Jaebum groans and arches his back, his hips twitching like he’s trying to grind his cock against something. Yugyeom wonders if he’s close just from this, if he can come just from taking something up his ass. The thought is enough to have him digging his nails into his thigh, using the edge of pain to hold himself back and distract himself from how hot the image of Jaebum coming from getting fucked is.

With a trembling whine, Jaebum slips his fingers out of himself. His fingers are shiny with lube, a long string of which trails from his hand to his asshole. It’s obscene in a way that makes Yugyeom feel like he’s been punched in the gut — but it doesn’t compare to when Jaebum sits up on his knees facing the camera, picks up the toy and a bottle of lube, and slicks it up with both hands working around its girth and down its length.

Next to Yugyeom, Jackson makes a low moan, shifts in his seat. Spreads his legs a little more to give himself better access. It presses their thighs together, knee to hip, and it almost feels like it’s burning Yugyeom despite the clothing between them. He doesn’t know if Jackson means to do it. But he likes the feel of his hyung’s thick, muscular thigh against him, likes the warmth and strength he radiates. Yugyeom swallows tightly, tries to ignore the image that’s popped into his mind of what it might feel like to rut against the firmness of Jackson’s thigh.

Every other thought flies out of his head, though, when Jaebum sits up on his knees, pulls his panties to the side, and settles the dildo beneath him, the fat head of it teasing at his rim. Yugyeom isn’t even sure if he’s breathing anymore as he watches Jaebum push the toy into himself, his hole stretching wide as he takes it with a groan that sounds half pained, half blissed out of his mind.

Jaebum tilts his head back, lips parting in pleasure. It exposes the long, marble column of his neck. Yugyeom wishes suddenly that there wasn’t a screen between them, that he could run his tongue along the smooth, unmarked skin, from collarbone to jaw.

He digs his teeth into his lower lip when Jaebum reaches up with one hand, still sticky with lube, and rakes it through his hair. The lube he’s using isn’t the normal clear type that Yugyeom’s familiar with. It’s sticky and stringy and translucent white — clearly meant to look like come.

And now it’s in Jaebum’s hair, a bead of it dripping down his forehead, and Yugyeom can’t help but imagine being the one to make his hyung such a mess. Maybe Jaebum would let him come across the lace blindfold, his pretty mouth, his eager tongue out and asking for it —

Speaking of his eager tongue — it darts out now, licks some of the come — no, lube — off his fingers. He moans like it’s real, like he loves it. The sound is slightly muffled as he goes back for more, still letting out tiny noises as he sucks the mess off his hand —

And he isn’t the only one making a mess.

Yugyeom doesn’t know what it says about them as a group that he can identify Jinyoung’s voice as he’s coming. He isn’t sure he wants to know. But he can’t deny that the sharp intake of breath, the strained little _oh,_ and the small sharp groans that follow are all Jinyoung.

He doesn’t mean to look, but — it happens. Just like everything else tonight has been happening.

Jinyoung’s eyes are half-lidded, his plush lower lip caught between his teeth in a failed attempt to stay quiet as he comes. He didn’t even get himself out of his pants — his hand is shoved down the inside of his jeans as he makes a mess of them, body tensing as each wave of his orgasm hits him. He’s curled over on himself with the force of it, turned into Mark’s side as if he can’t bear to look directly at Jaebum as he comes. His free hand has moved from Mark’s hand to his thigh, and his fingers are digging into the flesh right where Mark’s basketball shorts have ridden up slightly.

“Fuck,” Mark hisses, quietly. His jaw is clenched, the muscles in his cheek visibly tensed. “That’s hot.” Yugyeom doesn’t know if he’s talking about Jaebum or Jinyoung. Maybe both.

Yugyeom wants to recover from what he’s just seen, but Jaebum doesn’t give him a moment to breathe. He settles onto the toy, taking it as deep inside as he can and swiveling his hips excruciatingly slowly.

His weight rests on his hands as he leans back, simply working himself onto the toy almost lazily, like he’s savouring every moment of feeling it deep inside. Yugyeom doesn’t know how he’s managing to take all of it, let alone enjoy it enough that the head of his cock has sprung out of the panties and is leaking against the soft trail of hair that leads up to his navel.

He lifts one of his hands and slides it down his front. The lube leaves a slick trail until he reaches his cock, but he doesn’t push the panties down or grip himself through the fabric. Instead, he rubs his fingertips against the the head where it’s peeking out, working in tiny circles right where he’s sensitive. The intense attention makes his thighs clench visibly, his hips faltering before he lifts almost all the way off the toy and then fucks himself back down again with a wet noise.

A broken mewl leaves his lips, sounding almost like it’s been pushed out of him by the toy filling him up. He pulls up again, as if he’s showing off just how much he’s fitting inside his ass, before slamming back down and finally starting a rhythm.

Yugyeom’s always been aware that their leader has nice thighs. But watching them like this — it’s something else.

There’s a strange juxtaposition between his powerful movements and everything else — the dainty pink, his broken mewls, the precious pout on his lips. Every thrust goes deep inside of him, spreading him wide with an obscene squelch and making his cock leak all over his fingers and panties. The head is a painful-looking red, all glistening and flushed, and Yugyeom’s mouth waters.

They’ve teased Jaebum before about his size — typical locker room talk, he’s not _tiny,_ but he’s average at best, and maybe not even — but now it seems like the joke is on them. Yugyeom can’t stop himself from imagining how easily he’d be able to suck the length of it into his mouth, work the flat of his tongue along it and tease at the sensitive ridge. He can’t stop himself from imagining what kind of response Jaebum would give, if Yugyeom would be able to get the same noises out of him that he’s making on screen right now.

Then Jaebum bites his lower lip and lets his teeth drag against it slowly until it pops out again, slick and red, and suddenly Yugyeom’s imagining it the other way round. He wonders what kinds of noises Jaebum would make as he’s choking on cock, whether he would gag noisily as the tip hits the back of his throat, or whether he would take it silently, eyes watering but never wavering. Because Jaebum’s a good boy, and Yugyeom knows — he just _knows_ — that he would deepthroat gratefully and without complaint.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a hissed breath from the couch across from him.

“Oh, _Jesus,_ ” Mark groans, and Yugyeom’s eyes focus on him — and then they focus on Jinyoung. And then they widen so far he thinks they might just fall out and onto the floor.

Jinyoung isn’t looking at the screen anymore. His eyes are trained on Mark, watching him with an almost studious curiosity. And his hand is on Mark’s dick, stroking him — his fingers still wet with his own come.

Mark releases a shaky breath, fists clenched, and tilts his hips upwards to create more friction. But Jinyoung just releases his grip, lets Mark rut into air. The plaintive whine that escapes Mark is unholy.

“Oh my fucking god,” hisses Jackson, next to him. Yugyeom turns, and Jackson is watching Mark and Jinyoung unblinkingly, his fist pumping a steady rhythm on his cock.

So much for everyone just taking care of business.

But Yugyeom can’t judge Jackson, not when he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight when Jinyoung wraps his fingers around Mark again. The sounds of Jaebum fucking himself on screen mix with the slick noises of Jinyoung’s hand on Mark’s cock and everyone breathing heavily as they watch.

Yugyeom’s hand, wrapped around his own cock, stills — partly because he doesn’t know how he feels about getting off on his hyungs when they’re actually in front of him, but also partly because he doesn’t want it to end yet. He forces himself to wait, drinking in the sight of Mark’s head thrown back against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as Jinyoung works him mercilessly.

Mark yanks up the hem of his own shirt with a shaking hand, revealing how his abdomen tenses with each stroke of Jinyoung’s hand, like he’s trying to thrust up into his grip. As Yugyeom watches, his chest starts to heave with gasping breaths, his entire body tightening, his free hand digging into the back of the couch — and his cock jerks in Jinyoung’s hand and spurts over himself, come shooting up his stomach and then sliding slowly down the valley between his abs.

“ _God,_ ” Jackson groans from beside Yugyeom. While Yugyeom had momentarily stopped touching himself, Jackson’s done the opposite — his hand is jerking his cock faster than ever, focused at the head in short, almost brutal strokes. His eyes are fixed shamelessly on Mark and Jinyoung and the mess they’ve made over Mark’s stomach and Jinyoung’s hand. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he swears, his voice even deeper and raspier than usual.

He doesn’t lean back like Mark when he comes. Jackson curls in over himself, his arm so tense that every muscle is thrown into sharp relief as he works himself through it. There’s no attempt to salvage his clothes — the come drips over his knuckles and onto his pants, filthy enough that Yugyeom finally makes himself look away, heat rushing through his cheeks. He can still hear the last waves of Jackson’s orgasm, though — the deep groans, the final slick movements of his hand, the scratchy exhale as he falls back against the couch hard enough for Yugyeom to feel the impact.

Jackson starts to grumble, “I didn’t even make it to my favorite part of the video,” but he’s cut off by Jaebum letting out a choked, high-pitched whine. When Yugyeom looks back at the screen, Jaebum’s leaning back on both hands again, fucking himself hard and fast onto the dildo at a new angle that has him mewling and whimpering. His panties are soaked — both from how his cock is leaking and from how lube is dripping from his stretched hole with every thrust.

Yugyeom doesn’t even have the chance to think before his hand is moving on his cock again, stroking himself at the same pace as Jaebum’s frantic movements. Imagining that it’s not his hand but his hyung, clenching around him and riding him with wild abandon. He’s starting to get close, he thinks, the tightness in his lower gut coiling like a spring. He doesn’t want to come too soon, even if half his hyungs already have, wants to savor the sight of Jaebum wrecking himself with a toy — and the excruciatingly acute desire it awakens in him — for as long as he can.

But he might not have a choice. Not with the way heat shoots through him as Jaebum’s legs start to tremble and his breath comes shorter and shorter. Precome drips with every thrust down, his inner thighs shining with a mess of lube and sweat. Everything is filthy and desperate, the air thick with tension and the sounds of Jaebum grunting with the effort — and it only gets worse.

Jaebum sinks down on the toy until it’s deep inside of him. He’s barely lifting himself with each stroke now, just grinds his hips down in a twisting motion, like he can’t get it deep enough to be satisfied. His fingers fist in the sheets, and he throws his head back — the way he sometimes does when he’s belting out a note onstage. It’s all a performance, and Jaebum’s always been a hell of a performer. Yugyeom wonders if he’ll ever be able to watch Jaebum on stage again without getting hard.

The noises Jaebum is making now are needier than ever, gasps and moans spilling from his lips almost constantly. His hips aren’t moving nearly as smoothly as they were before, stuttering in a broken staccato. He’s falling apart in front of all of them, messy and desperate as his shirt starts slipping further down his shoulder with each thrust.

It’s almost painfully arousing to watch just how much Jaebum clearly enjoys getting fucked. Yugyeom watches as Jaebum pushes the hem of his shirt up, slides his palm across the plane of his abs. He doesn’t touch his cock — almost makes a point of it with how he leans back on one hand and uses the other to ruck his shirt up and pinch his nipple until it’s red and angry. Yugyeom swallows hard when he sees how Jaebum’s cock twitches and leaks at the brutal touch.

Up until now, Jaebum hasn’t spoken a word. But now, as he falls apart, his control slips. Not entirely, not enough to give away his sweet voice. It’s tiny, broken pieces of words, cut off and whimpered and almost nasal with how he’s trying to swallow them down, all the hotter for how he obviously can’t stop himself. “Ah — fuck — _hah —_ ”

Yugyeom feels, rather than sees — his eyes are locked onto the screen — Jackson’s hand slide up his thigh. It just rests there, gives him a firm squeeze, but it makes Yugyeom clench in anticipation. His breath catches in his throat as he watches Jaebum fist his hand in his hair, arching his back with a shattered cry of pleasure.

Yugyeom’s heard about guys coming just from getting fucked before. Watching it, though — that’s something else entirely.

It starts with Jaebum’s thighs trembling, shaking until his thrusts down onto the toy are little more than needy jerks of his hips. He licks his bottom lip and leaves it shining with spit before he digs his teeth in. His breaths come shorter, louder, panting with exertion and need until each exhale is almost a whine. A red flush extends down his neck and across his heaving chest, creeps past the collar of his shirt. He looks lovely, all pink and sweaty and squirmy, and Yugyeom can almost taste how warm Jaebum would feel if he could get his mouth on his skin.

Jaebum lets out a choked breath, and then it hitches, drags out into a broken mewl. His cock twitches in his panties, jumping and then finally spurting come up his stomach and down the lace, the mess going everywhere as Jaebum keeps working his hips as best he can through his orgasm. His abs clench with each wave, his body curling with the force of it. His mouth hangs open, pink and wet and swollen from biting, obscene as anything. He’s an indecent kind of perfection, like he was painted to make Yugyeom’s cock throb in his grip and leak down his hand.

Yugyeom can’t find any air to breathe. Jackson’s grip on his thigh tightens, and it feels like it’s constricting his lungs as well. He can’t stop staring at the image of Jaebum riding out his high, doesn’t think he’s blinked in the last minute.

What tears his attention away from his leader, in the end, is a loud grunt from his right. He whips his head round, and there Youngjae is, come splattered across his shirt and hands, twitching through his own orgasm. It’s not surprising that he’s loud, that each moan sounds like it’s being punched out of his chest as the final spurts of come dribble down his cock and hands. Yugyeom lets out a choked whimper at the look of utter satisfaction on Youngjae’s face.

Dimly, in the back of his mind, Yugyeom’s aware that it’s just him and Bambam left. His gaze is dragged over to his youngest hyung, his best friend — and when their eyes lock, something deep inside Yugyeom twists and tightens. Bambam’s thick, obscene lips part, and he mouths something at Yugyeom — maybe “Gyeom”, or maybe “come”.

Yugyeom sees that — Bambam asking, no, _demanding,_ — and hears Jaebum’s tiny gasps and moans as he works himself off the toy, and it’s all too much. It makes his thoughts run together, senseless and frenzied. His eyes flit between Jaebum and Bambam, his mind lighting on memories of Mark and Jinyoung and Jackson and Youngjae — he thinks of come dripping down fingers and thighs clenching and groans bitten out between gritted teeth.

It’s Bambam’s head thrown back, the long column of his gorgeous neck exposed as he comes, combined with Jaebum — god, Jaebum drags his fingers lazily through the come on his stomach, lifts them to his mouth, and suckles at them like he could get off on it, like he hadn’t just come in his panties and all over himself —

Yugyeom can’t stop himself from whining as he comes. His voice is high and thin, his cock pulsing in his tight grip as he works over it with disgusting, wet noises with his hand. Come paints his stomach, shooting up almost to his collarbones, sticky and hot against his skin as it drips down. He’s tried to deny the fact that he’s thought about Jaebum before when he touched himself, but this — this is undeniable. Jaebum is on screen, still suckling the come right off his own fingers, and Yugyeom’s made a mess all over himself and still can’t stop watching his hyung.

The video ends with Jaebum kissing his fingertips lewdly and waving goodbye, and then the room is left suspended in a strange kind of silence. Half of them are still panting with the aftermath of release and the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air.

“Well,” exhales Jackson, shattering the silence, “that was an experience.”

Jinyoung groans, throws his forearm across his eyes like he’s trying to pretend he’s not here. “Don’t start.”

The atmosphere in the room feels as if it’s been strung tight over them. Yugyeom can’t tell if the tension is a sense of finality or potential.

“It’s fine,” Youngjae asserts. “Like we agreed — as long as we never talk about it again.” For all that his words sound sure, his tone rings hollow.

No one calls him out on it. After all, what would they even do with a secret big enough for six?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yugyeom likes to think they’ve done a very good job executing Mission: Act Like We’ve Never Seen Jaebum Hyung Fuck Himself On A Dildo. He’s only jumped at Jaebum throwing a friendly arm around his shoulder twice. Maybe three times, but _still_ — he’s doing his best, and he thinks it’s probably good enough.

He should know better than to think that their leader doesn’t pick up on it. For all that Jaebum can act like a fool, he absolutely isn’t one when it comes to secrets and games.

It starts with throwaway things — absent-minded musings about hidden tattoos or oddly intense eye contact when he’s licking his fingers after eating fried chicken. Suggestive, for sure, but there’s plausible deniability — Yugyeom is willing to accept that their leader’s sometimes sweet ignorance about subtext extends to these grounds.

But then — they’re backstage, one day, getting ready for a JYP Nation performance at an awards show. Jaebum has a solo, has been practicing for weeks to get it just right. Yugyeom’s next to him, helping him adjust his mic, and trying to keep his hands from shaking — it’s unnerving, being so close to his hyung now, fingers ghosting along the skin of his neck.

“You seem nervous,” Jaebum says, suddenly, startling Yugyeom. He raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you nervous?”

Yugyeom clears his throat. “No,” he replies. “Are you?”

Jaebum tilts his head to the side, watches intently as Yugyeom fumbles with the headset. “No,” he murmurs, voice low and rumbling deep into Yugyeom’s core. “I’m good at what I do. You know that, don’t you?”

Panic floods Yugyeom, and he tears his eyes up to meet Jaebum’s gaze. Something flickers between them — and maybe it’s all in his head. Maybe it’s just the memory of how slick and swollen and red his lips had looked around the dildo, maybe it’s the thought of how cocksure and teasing his hyung had seemed in the video. Hell, maybe it’s something more that had been lurking beneath the surface even before Yugyeom had found the damn thing and the link had been shared among all their members, something visceral and hot beneath his skin that draws his eyes to Jaebum’s mouth like a magnet.

The point is — Yugyeom is filled with a sudden, burning urge to kiss Jaebum.

“Hyung.” The word slips past his lips.

But then Jaebum is stepping back, testing how secure the headset feels. He throws Yugyeom a wink. “Thanks, kitten.”

And then he’s gone, slipping into the bustle of the backstage crowd, leaving Yugyeom alone with his thoughts and the coil of desire in his gut.

Well. It might maybe, potentially, _possibly_ be harder to pretend like none of it ever happened now.

And yet, he thinks, as he watches Jaebum’s broad silhouette disappear into the crowd, maybe everything had already gotten out of hand from the first message Bambam had sent to their group chat. Maybe it’d started even before that, when Yugyeom had been so drawn to the camboy with lips that reminded him of his hyung. Or maybe it had started from the very first time Jaebum had ruffled his hair and muttered “this kid” in affectionate annoyance.

He catches sight of Jaebum in the distance, glancing back at him. Feels his heart rate starts to pick up as he sees the corners of Jaebum’s lips lift in a sly smirk.

Yeah, everything’s _definitely_ getting out of hand, Yugyeom thinks. He can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

But maybe it isn’t such a bad thing after all.

**Author's Note:**

> it ended up more yugbeom than initially intended, but!! THEY DESERVE MORE LOVE!!!
> 
> also this entire fic was written in purple comic sans
> 
> come talk to ally on [twitter](http://twitter.com/notionxally)/[cc](http://curiouscat.me/notionxally)!


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